


I Like My Phallus Flowers Untrampled

by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And Dick-Shaped Flowers, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Flirting, Bisexual Ginny Weasley, F/F, Femslash, Getting Together, Mild Language, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Rainforests, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 09:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14016819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion/pseuds/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion
Summary: The last thing Ginny expects to find in the depths of a humid, tropical rainforest is Padma Patil, crouched over a suggestive-looking flower with a frown on her face and a camera in her hands.





	I Like My Phallus Flowers Untrampled

**Author's Note:**

> I was honestly going to leave it after the first scene, but I had fun, and I thought I'd post it now! I hope you enjoy, those very few of you who will probably read this! :D <3

The last thing Ginny expects to find in the depths of a humid, tropical rainforest is Padma Patil, crouched over a phallic-looking flower with a frown on her face and a camera in her hands. She’s so thrown by this unexpected sight, in fact, that she stops dead beside a sap-soaked tree without warning, and the branch she was gently moving aside with a levitation spell whacks her in the face. Harry wheezes as he walks into her, sending them both stumbling forward out of the undergrowth, and they land in a heap on the ground. 

Ginny spits out a mouthful of hair, her face stinging from the impact with the branch, and stares up at a patch of blue sky. She wonders if perhaps Padma didn’t notice them. She can hear Harry groaning up above her, and she pushes somewhere in the approximation of his head, trying to dislodge him. Harry removes his elbow from her gut and stands, offering her a hand with a sheepish grin. They’re both supposed to be far more graceful than this, blessed with the genes of good Quidditch players, and yet here they are. 

“Thanks,” Ginny says, as Harry pulls her up. Then she lowers her voice and says, “Did she see?”

“I’d say so,” Harry says, with a bit of a smirk that Ginny’s seen countless times on someone else, someone blonde and pointy and pale. He waves with the hand that Ginny drops, and she turns in time to see Padma marching towards them, her shoulders square and her face determined. Her camera dangles from her hands, a bit of fancy, expensive equipment that most definitely doesn’t belong in this damn place. 

“Ginevra,” Padma greets her, and Ginny feels her face pull down at the corners in disgust. Ginevra is the name of a great-grandmother, a woman swathed in knitted blankets and stinking of sherry, doling out hard-boiled sweets. Ginevra is a name that her Great Aunt Muriel uses with disdain, and it’s a name that inspires frowns, rather than laughter. It’s not Ginny’s name, not in the ways that count. 

“Just Ginny,” she says firmly, and Padma nods sharply. The forest hasn’t quite touched her - unlike Ginny, who has mud in places she didn’t know existed, and whose clothes are drenched in sweat despite several cooling and drying charms. Her hair is a tangled mess, and she feels like a carton of ice cream left out in the sun too long, all tacky and claggy. But Padma wears a pair of smart, clean trousers that billow around the ankles, and her shirt is a floaty, patterned number that reeks of money. Her hair is sleek and smooth, pulled back into a neat knot. She looks like she’s about to give a business presentation. 

“And I’m just Harry,” Harry adds, when the silence starts to caress the edges of awkward. “And Luna is… gone.”

Ginny spares him a helpless glance, and he shrugs rather obviously. She stomps pointedley on his toes, feels them curl up like petals underneath her heavy boots and his trainers. He adjusts his glasses and points over his shoulder, voice pained. 

“I’ll just go and find her.”

Ginny watches him trot off with something of a sinking feeling. He might be smart and capable, and he might have solved over a hundred mysteries since the age of eleven, and he might have killed the Darkest Wizard of their time, but he’s also a magnet for trouble, and Ginny just knows that she’s going to be yanking him out of some bottomless pit of man-eating mud later on. 

“What exactly are your intentions in this forest?” Padma asks sternly, drawing Ginny’s attention back to her. Her eyes are startling in their intensely. Ginny immediately focuses on a leaf, hanging somewhere over Padma’s left shoulder. It’s not that she’s intimidated, exactly, because Ginny doesn’t get intimidated easily - it’s just that Padma’s extremely attractive, and Ginny feels like a creature that’s been dredged up from a swamp. Probably by Luna, to be examined and poked and prodded and then featured on the front page of the Quibbler. 

“We’re looking for something,” Ginny says, examining the leaf intently. It’s green and round and flat, and there are little blue veins running through it. It’s much more interesting, she decides, than Padma’s face, though the fast thump of her heart tells her something different. “Luna dragged us out here to look for a… something, that’s supposed to live in hot, humid forests.”

“You don't know what it is you’re here to find?” 

Ginny rubs her nose with a rather despairing air. “Look, Luna is brilliant. She’s a good friend. But sometimes all the things she believes in blend into one, and I have no idea if I’m supposed to be looking for a blob-creature or a bird of prey anymore. I sure as hell don't know what it’s called.”

That doesn’t make her a bad friend. A bad friend wouldn’t be slogging through a rainforest, having port-keyed there at some God-forsaken time in the morning, cranky and crusty-eyed, looking for the very thing that she can’t remember the name of. 

Padma raises one perfectly-shaped eyebrow. Ginny wonders whether Parvati got at it with a pair of tweezers, because she can’t see Padma sitting down to pluck and shape her eyebrows. She seems like someone who has better things to do. 

And then she firmly yells at her inner voice, because who knows, maybe Padma enjoys plucking her eyebrows. Maybe she likes taking care of herself and doing her face in the mornings, before she comes out to take pictures of flowers in the shape of dicks. Just because she’s a smart person doesn’t mean she can’t like doing stuff like that. And just because Parvati is more that-way inclined, shouldn’t mean she’s always the first port of call in Ginny’s mind for girly things. 

“Are you alright?” Padma asks, a note of concern in her voice. “Your eye is twitching. And you look like you’re about to scream.”

Ginny stops yelling at her inner voice abruptly. She bets Harry knows that her eye twitches when she does her internal rants. She bets he knows and he’s never told her because he likes to laugh in her face, behind her back. 

“Yeah, I just… uh. Never mind. What are you doing out here?”

Padma lifts the camera, as though she thinks the answer is rather obvious. Ginny supposes that it is, but not the why and how of it all. “Taking photographs for a research paper I’m doing, on this particular plant. It’s quite fascinating, really.”

“That one over there?” Ginny points, and Padma nods. Ginny tilts her head. “It’s very…”

“Yes,” Padma says instantly. “It is.”

Ginny bites her lip. She knows Ron would be laughing hysterically right about now, and she’s extremely glad that he’s currently in Australia, with Hermione, visiting her parents. In any other world, she’d be laughing hysterically too. If Harry were here right now, and happened to catch her eye, she probably wouldn’t be able to hold it in. 

“It’s called Latveus Robus,” Padma says, possibly to expel the strained silence, and also possibly to push away the fact that she’s studying a dick-shaped flower intently. “I have to be out here to study it properly, and do several experiments, since this is the only place where it grows. And I would _appreciate_ it if you and your entourage didn't come barrelling through every five minutes, waving your wands about like hooligans. I like my Latveus Robus untrampled, thank you very much.”

Even when she's annoyed, she's really rather beautiful. Ginny opens her mouth, outraged, to defend herself, when Luna and Harry barrell through the trees at their left, waving their wands about like hooligans. She shuts her mouth with a small snap. The tense line of Padma’s mouth feels rather pointed, which is obviously the only reason why Ginny’s looking at it. 

“I found Luna,” Harry explains, panting and clutching his side. “And something else found us.”

Luna’s eyes are very wide and round, but she looks otherwise unbothered by the excitement as she lowers her wand. 

“We disturbed a nest of Wilting Waldocks, I think,” Luna says, voice hushed. “We’ll have to be careful when we begin our search. There’s a lot more than just Marmalade Maladies out here.”

“That’s the one,” Ginny says, snapping her fingers. “That’s what we’re looking for. Marmalade Maladies.”

Harry is laughing at her. She can tell, even from all the way over here. 

Padma doesn’t seem to know what to say in response. Ginny can’t exactly blame her, especially not when, moments later, the Wilting Waldocks finally catch up to them all, and completely squash the Latveus Robus under their large, remarkably elephant-like feet. 

*

Canvas, when subjected to heat, can be somewhat stifling, which is why Ginny is currently sitting outside of their tent rather than in it, resting against an old, moss-covered log and digging her fingers into the soil beneath her. Harry is inside, cooking up a storm, and she can hear the sounds of Luna singing and pans clattering through the open tent flap. 

The singing grows louder and yet softer at the same time, and a shapeless blue figure that Ginny always associates with Luna sits down next to her. Luna doesn’t care about the moss and dirt beneath her, but in a different way to Ginny. Luna doesn’t care because it doesn’t touch her, because in her own strange way, she’s as much a part of it as she is the rest of the world. 

Ginny doesn’t care because dirt is dirt, and she’s never minded getting a little messy. In some ways, it’s a big part of her, this ability to be one of the boys, because with seven - seven, even now - brothers, she couldn’t show anything other than how fierce she was. 

“You’re not very pleased to be here, are you?” Luna takes her hand. Their hands are different, but familiar. Luna’s is pretty and dainty, stained with strange colours from inks and spells, and Ginny’s is - well, it’s just a hand, really. 

“I am,” Ginny says, squeezing those fingers. There’s a smudge of pink by Luna’s thumb, and Ginny taps her forefinger against it. “I am pleased. I just - I thought if I came somewhere else, I wouldn’t feel so out of place. But I feel just as much like I don't fit out here.”

“Places aren’t magic, you know,” Luna says. “What you feel won’t change just because of where you are. It matters what you do, and who you’re with, and how you face it.”

Ginny grins. “Wise.”

Luna shakes her head gently. “Not really. But I like that you think so. It’s a kind thing to say.”

They sit quietly for a second. Harry drops something in the tent and swears loudly, and Ginny snickers under her breath. 

“Are you and Harry dating?” Luna asks, suddenly. “Oh, that’s a nice butterfly. They come from caterpillars, you know.”

“Where did that come from?” Ginny demands. 

Luna gives her an odd look. “From a caterpillar. I just told you.”

“No, not the - the question. About Harry. Where did that come from?”

“You laugh easily around him,” Luna says, shrugging. “And you were dating before the war. I thought maybe you might be dating again, now that the war’s over.”

“The war’s been over for a few years, now, Luna,” Ginny says, not really laughing. Even the thought of the war exhausts her to the bone, and she doesn’t want to feel that, not out here. “No, we’re not dating. We went on a few dates, to try, because what we had - it was good. It was good and strong. But we’re different people than we were going into it all, and I think, or I know I want to explore. See what else is out there, y’know?”

Luna absorbs this thoughtfully, or maybe she’s just watching the butterfly. The tent is suspiciously quiet, and Ginny isn’t sure if Harry is listening or not, but she quickly adds, “I do love him, though. Just not in a way where I can date him.”

“Like a brother, then?”

“I’m not sure you can love someone like a brother if you’ve had your tongue in their mouth,” Ginny says, pulling a face. Harry is definitely listening, because the choked noise from the tent couldn’t be about anything else. “But he’s family. He’ll always be family. We just won’t build one together, that’s all.”

“That seems fair,” Luna says, smiling at her. “So if you’re not dating Harry, then are you dating Padma?”

*

“Dating Padma,” Ginny mutters, swiping at the sweat dripping down her brow. “Of course I’m not dating Padma. I don't even know Padma. Just because we were in the DA together doesn’t mean we know each other.”

Luna was insistent, before they took the portkey here, that they not disturb the forest. Spells are okay, so long as they don't damage anything. It’s a magical forest, not on any maps and hidden from view, and full of magical things, so Ginny has no doubts that it would probably fight back if they did use magic here. 

But it means that she has to carefully pick her way through the long, coarse grass and duck down under hanging vines and thick branches. She has no idea what’s poisonous and what isn’t, or what’s going to suddenly grow teeth, and she’s pretty sure that a well-placed Bat Bogey Hex won’t actually do anything useful out here. 

“Do you often mutter to yourself in the middle of the rainforest?”

Ginny whirls around, one hand trapped in a lump of vines. She wrenches her hand free and glares vaguely in Padma’s direction. 

“I’m not usually in a rainforest, so that’s a no,” Ginny says. Padma moves forward out of the damp mist and brushes a green bug off her shoulder; it springs away with a lightness Ginny wishes she felt all the time. 

“I thought I asked you to stay away from my flowers?” Padma asks. Ginny can’t see much around her apart from big leafy plants, but she assumes there’s a Latvues Robus nearby if Padma is lurking in the bushes. 

“It wasn’t actually me who trampled the last one,” Ginny points out. She continues trekking through the undergrowth, and Padma falls into step beside her, gently parting the leaves and plants with a soft indigo spell. “That was the elephants.”

“Lovegood had a different name for them.” Padma sniffs. “And she may have actually been right about them, considering they had three tusks each.”

“Luna is often right about her guesses,” Ginny says firmly. She doesn’t shy away from Padma’s gaze this time. She knows Luna and Padma were in the same House, but she also knows that some of the Ravenclaws were the worst offenders when it came to making fun of Luna. She didn’t tolerate it then and she won’t tolerate it now. 

Padma doesn’t shy away from her either. She faces her ferocity with curiosity, and smiles. 

“I always liked Luna,” Padma says plainly. “I never stood up for her enough, and that’s a failing of mine. I still think she’s odd, but I also think she’s brave. Not just for fighting. It takes a lot of courage to have faith in things that you can’t see, especially when everyone else around you is laughing in your face, and telling you that you’re wrong.”

She walks on, and Ginny is left, oddly winded, in the path that she makes. She blinks at a purple frog that sits in the tree opposite her, and it’s throat balloons up. It warbles rather pathetically. 

“You and me both,” she murmurs. And then she follows Padma. 

*

Padma comes back with her to their make-shift camp. There’s no need for a campfire, but Harry’s made one anyway, although the flames are purple, and carry Hermione’s signature flair. They don't give off any heat, but rather an icy breeze that Ginny is grateful for. 

Padma stands at the edge of the clearing for a moment, clearly unsure of her welcome. But fuck that, Ginny thinks, and she digs down deep for some of that bravery her family is well-known for, and she takes Padma’s pristine sleeve. 

“Come on. He might not look it, but Harry’s a good cook. I’m pretty sure he’s made something for us to snack on, at least.”

Padma tips her chin up and follows Ginny. She doesn’t shake away Ginny’s hand, but Ginny takes it away sooner rather than later anyway. She doesn’t want to overstep. 

They sit by the campfire, and Harry joins them after a minute. He’s tanned and sweaty, and he looks tired, but the shadows under his eyes are mostly gone, and there’s a smile on his face. It’s a good sort of tired, the kind that comes with hard work rather than grief. 

“Find anything?” he asks, after a cheery wave towards Padma. Harry seems to think that waves are the way forward when one doesn’t know what to say. 

“I found a new bite on my ankle, and a hatred for all things green,” Ginny offers. “You?”

“A hole in the ground,” Harry says, with a wry twist to his mouth. “And a spell that gets you out of holes in the ground, although that technically doesn’t count, because I summoned a book from the tent and found it in there.”

Ginny forgets herself, cackling wildly, a little snort at the end of it. She blushes bright red in the following silence. Padma is watching her like she’s just grown two heads, and Harry looks like he might actually piss himself if he holds in his laughter any longer. 

“Dainty, Gin,” he says. “So lady-like.”

“When have you ever known me to be lady-like?” Ginny grumbles, casting a look at Padma under her lashes. Padma is still watching her, and Ginny doesn’t know her well enough to guess what the look on her face means. 

“Depends what you mean by lady-like,” Harry says, shrugging. “I saw you dance at the Yule Ball. And the way you fly is graceful. And, I mean, your poetry is just something else, honestly.”

Ginny had thought, previously, that Harry was too nice to bring something like that up. And Harry is nice, too nice, but he’s also a git who loves her, and with that love comes playful teasing. 

Ginny picks up her wand, and Harry flees, because he’s not a stupid man, and he’s survived this long for a reason. He flees straight into Luna, who bounces off him quite cheerfully, and then he flees around Luna, and Ginny puts her wand down, grinding her teeth. When she glances sideways, the bottom of her stomach drops out of her. 

Padma is smiling faintly.

“Has Harry gone to send another Patronus?” Luna asks, kneeling down beside the fire. “He’s been talking to Draco an awful lot, recently. I hope everything’s okay.”

“Draco Malfoy?” Padma asks, mouth falling open. “They talk to each other? Without Hexing each other’s balls off?”

The phrasing sounds strange coming out of Padma’s mouth that Ginny laughs again, that same wild cackle. And Padma watches her again, with that same unknowable look, and Luna watches it all unfold, the way she does most things. 

“Yeah, they talk to each other,” Ginny says eventually, her sides aching. She’s got a grin as wide as the nile on her face. “They talk to each all night long.”

There is a long pause, in which the fire crackles, the crickets buzz, and Padma’s cheeks darken. 

“Oh,” she says, with a strange little smile. Ginny is finding that there are a lot of things about Padma that she doesn’t understand, and the smile she’s currently sporting becomes her new favourite mystery. 

Luna’s frown evens out, and her eyebrows flatten. “Are _they_ dating?”

*

Padma has her own camp, a little further away from theirs, but she returns the same evening with pursed lips and a request to stay. 

“There’s an infestation of bugs that spew fire in my tent,” Padma says succinctly, holding up a neatly bandaged hand. “And I can’t see well enough to disperse them, even with wandlight.”

Part of Ginny is world’s away, imagining things that couldn’t possibly be true. Like Padma making up the fire-bugs as a way to spend more time with Ginny, even going so far as to put a bandage over her perfectly fine hand. 

“Ginny has room in her bunk,” Harry offers, and the part of Ginny that was world’s away comes back to earth with a bump. Harry has an earnest, concerned expression on his face, and he’s not even suggesting it to be an arse, but Ginny still wants to curse him. “Do you need your hand looked at? We’ve got stuff here. We were pretty sure at least one of us would come across an injury.”

Padma looks surprised, and then touched, at his offer. Ginny scowls; she could have offered. She was going to, and then Harry beat her to it. 

“I used a few ointments I had in my purse, but thanks,” Padma says. 

“What about your camp?” Ginny asks. “Will everything be alright until morning?”

“I put spells around the place to keep things safe, and all of the important things are in a different tent, which I’ve warded, to keep the bugs away. Hopefully nothing catches on fire, but I imagine it won’t, since the bugs must live near here, and nothing’s burned down over the years.”

She looks a little worried regardless, and Luna steps up to pat her shoulder and pass her a mug of iced tea. Padma takes it gratefully, settling in one of the chairs. She looks radiant in the lamplight. Her skin is dark enough that her eyes and teeth shine slightly, and Ginny curls back in her seat with the force of her want. It’s not lust, or anything like that. It’s want. 

Ginny sips her own iced drink as the conversation lulls and swells. Her lips feel cold, but the rest of her feels warm with the thought of sharing a bed with Padma. It’s a double bed, so there’ll be plenty of room, but still. She manages to pull herself out of her thoughts enough to join in properly, adding her own voice to the mix of words hovering in the air like fireflies, incandescent in their brightness. 

She takes them all in. They’re a strange mix of people, and in their own way, they are each the odd one out. But they fit quite nicely together here, around a square table, and although it’s not a fierce friendship between them, or even anything more than a barely-there relationship, in some cases, it is nice. Nice and warm and normal. 

Normal is what she’s been looking for, after the horror of war. What they’ve each been looking for. 

Harry is the first to dip out, citing a need to sleep that Ginny sees right through. There’s no floo out here, obviously, so he and Draco have to make do with Patronuses, and she thinks that’s what brought them together in the first place - Draco needed to learn, in order to be considered for Auror training, and Harry is pretty much the expert on the subject. It’s sweet, she decides. It makes her a little nostalgic for her old relationships, the beginnings of them, where you can taste the tension in the air, and every little touch sends sparks down your spine. She misses that. 

Padma chooses that moment to rest a hand on Ginny’s wrist and ask about where she’s sleeping. The sparks that fly down her spine have nothing to do with the touch, Ginny reasons. It’s just the iced tea.

Oh, who the hell is she kidding anymore, she thinks, as she waves goodnight to Luna and leads Padma into their little section of the tent. Just herself, and she’s not even doing that very well.

She’ll talk to Luna about it in the morning, after a harrowing night of trying to breathe shallowly, so she doesn’t just give in and press her nose into the dip above Padma’s collarbone and inhale. She’ll talk to Luna, and Luna will make things make sense, because that’s what she always does for Ginny. And Ginny will go out and find the Peanut-Butter Problems, or the Butter Bugs, or the Avocado Afflictions , or whatever it is that Luna’s looking for, as a thank you. 

She ducks into the other part of the tent, changes into flannel bottoms that are too small around the ankle and the smallest vest top she can find, because she doesn’t want to melt under the heat. She splashes water on her face, piles all her hair into a thick plait, and brushes her teeth. 

When she comes back into her room, she’s faced with Padma in a sensible blue slip, and her mind goes a little fuzzy at the edges. She stares. She knows she’s staring, but she can’t make herself stop, even when Padma holds up her toothbrush and asks, quietly, where she can freshen up. 

“Ginny?” Padma frowns at her. “Are you quite alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, sorry! Um, through there, just don't listen if you can hear Harry talking, okay? You won’t be able to sleep tonight if you do.”

“Thanks for the warning, but I have Parvati for a sister. We shared a room. We share a flat, now. Trust me when I say, there’s nothing I haven’t heard, or witnessed.” Padma shudders, presumably at the memory of something horrific, and Ginny grins as she pads off. 

Ginny feels braver in the dark, so she turns the lamp off and gets under the covers. There’s really no need for more than one thin quilt, because apparently the magical forest doesn’t know the meaning of getting colder at night. It’s still warm and sticky, and Ginny is extra conscious of this when Padma joins her, taking the side of the bed furthest from the tent wall. 

They lie stiffly for a few moments, but gradually, Padma relaxes. The soft sound of her breathing sets Ginny’s mind at ease, and she drifts off eventually. 

*

When they wake, it’s to the scent of bacon, and the feel of each other in their arms. 

Ginny has curled up to Padma in the night, pressing her face into Padma’s neck and breathing deeply. Padma has her arms around Ginny, pulling her closer, but she stiffens when Harry drops something else in the kitchen, and Luna’s chime of a laugh filters through to their bunk. Ginny takes another deep breath, and then holds it when she realises exactly where she is, and who she’s holding. 

Ginny sits bolt upright, her hair loose and falling all over the place. She stares down at Padma, who looks just as shocked as Ginny does, although that might be because of Ginny’s sudden movement. 

“You may want to get this cut,” Padma says. She reaches up and brushes some of Ginny’s hair out of her face, tucks it behind her ear. “It looks pretty like this, though.”

Ginny feels oddly vulnerable in the face of Padma’s words. Their legs, she realises are tangled together, and Ginny’s trousers have rucked up in the night, pressing skin against skin. 

“I don't-” Ginny starts, but then she stops. She doesn’t know what she means to say. 

Padma sits up slowly. She takes one of Ginny’s hands and turns it over, lifting it to press a kiss to Ginny’s palm. Ginny feels her pulse sky-rocket at the touch of lips to skin, and she gasps. And then Padma is the one who looks vulnerable, letting Ginny’s hand drop to rest on the bunk. 

“I don't know what I’m doing,” Padma says quietly. “I have a feeling that you don't, either. But I know attraction when I feel it.”

Ginny does too. She’s just been too scared to admit that that’s what it is. 

“It’s always been boys for me,” Ginny says, although she can feel her brain casting back, picking over every instance of interaction with another girl and shedding light on each moment. “I never… I never really thought about this.”

“And we don't know each other very well,” Padma says, nodding. Ginny feels the ache of misery settle inside of her, and she nods too. 

“But,” Padma says, not at all confidently. “We could get to know each other? I’m here for a few more weeks, and after that, I’m in London for a while, whilst I work on my research paper. After that, I’m not sure, but I’ve always wanted to travel, explore.”

Ginny finds herself nodding again, this time rather maniacally. She nudges Padma.

“See, I’m learning new things already,” Ginny says, with a wink that feels more like a blink. Merlin, why is she so bad at this? “And I like that, exploring together. We still have to find this - this thing, whatever it is, fuck, why can’t I remember what it’s called? And after that, I’m free as anything.”

She is, she thinks, as Padma smiles brilliantly, her eyes glinting with excitement. Padma takes her hand again, and this time, she uses it to pull Ginny closer, brushing her lips over the corner of her mouth. 

She really is free as anything.

**Author's Note:**

> I may explore Ginny's sexuality at a later date, as I think there's a lot of potential there. Please, leave a comment and a kudos and let me know what you think! And come say hey @thealmostrhetoricalquestion on tumblr, I'd love to hear from you! Thank you so much!


End file.
